


Chimera

by chimneysmoke (recension)



Category: Luther (TV), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recension/pseuds/chimneysmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice gets an offer to become a contract criminal from the man himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chimera

Alice's hands flit across her silverware, straightening her place setting as she watched him from across the room. There was something erratic about him, enthralling but erratic. Like he was halves of different people stitched together crudely. Frankenstein. Doctor Jekyll. A Chimera.

The table was filled with persons of ill repute, his type of people. Russian gangsters and Thai assassins, tattoos and scars peeking from behind fine suits and silk shirts. It wasn't surprising in the least that she was the only woman at the table. It especially wasn't surprising that she was the only one with any table manners.

She wondered idly what John was doing, if he was eating a fine gourmet meal on gold-rimmed china like her, or if he had gotten a Chinese take away instead: spilling greasy noodles and wontons across his desk at the station. It was a much more likely alternative.

She reached for her glass of wine as it was poured, catching the eye of him, their host. The Chimera. He raised a finger to her and shook it in warning. She picked up the glass anyway, and took a cheeky sip, her lipstick making a firm indentation on the clean crystal. She replaced it on the table as he lowered his finger. He ground his teeth.

She wondered which half she had upset.

After another few moments of his self-indulgent drivel he gave his formal permission to eat, but Alice merely poked at the meal. She did enjoy the wine, fine vintages that went above the perception of most of the guests she was sure.

The courses were unending, one after another of her total silence, the room filled of talk in jumbled English and boastful words. One man claimed credit for an infamous art heist, hoping to impress the host. 

How silly it was, Alice thought, to impress the man who was trying to impress you.

As the cheese course was produced, Alice requested a strong cup of tea, waiting as the food was finally finished, all guests rising to thank their host and make one last impression before filing out the door. She could tell from their body language that some had drug habits to tend to, while others were enticed by The Monte Carlo itself, eager to cheat their way through Monaco's finest casino a stone's throw from where they dined.

Alice waited as servers came to clear the table. They left only the soiled tablecloth, Alice's teacup, and the host's glass of cognac, which was refilled without request.

Jim shut the door firmly after the last guest, moving back to his seat with a kind word of apology to the maître d’hôtel for their lingering. "Alice Morgan," he spoke kindly. "Was the dinner not to your liking?"

"I'm watching my figure," she cheekily responded, sipping her tea.

"I hesitated inviting you," he changed the subject. "But I have an associate who can't speak highly enough of you."

"Well it is nice to be liked," she drawled, returning her teacup to its saucer with a soft clink. "I'm sure these deeds I'm considered proficient at doing are alleged."

"Of course, I try not to associate with known criminals," Jim purred, sipping his cognac.

Alice raised an eyebrow in a far arch. "What about your guests tonight? I haven't seen a bunch of more obvious convicts since my brief stint in the madhouse."

"That's right," Jim smiled. "You were caught once too, weren't you? Is it true what they say about women's prisons?"

Alice smiled, fiddling with the handle of her teacup idly, "Is it true what they say about men's?" Moriarty's stunts in their native land had made international news. His Tower of London heist, his trial. It was the only reason she'd accepted the invitation.

"You make friends with a law-man and getting caught is inevitable," he told her, catching her eye for the first time, holding it. She didn't stray from the eye contact.

"You and Sherlock Holmes are friends now?" She asked amused, wondering if Jim was desperate to do to Sherlock all she wanted to do to John. In so many ways the game was more satisfying though. She wouldn't fault Jim for repressing his sexual urges.

"Something like that. Just like you and your 'John'," Jim murmured. "DCI Luther. Pity he would never come to an event like this. I'm sure he has some fascinating stories."

"Loads," Alice wet her lips, reclining slightly in her chair. "Why was I invited?"

"Like I said, I've heard good things," Jim finished his cognac, pushing away the empty glass. A waiter appeared from the shadows, clearing the glass immediately. "I'd like to offer you a job," he spoke, rising from his seat. He buttoned his suit's jacket, producing a bow-tie from his pocket.

"What makes you so sure I'm for hire?" she murmured, watching him knot the tie around his collar with precise, practiced movement.

"Because the job involves unfinished business with a certain deceased human rights lawyer named Zoe Luther," Moriarty smiled, knowing that had gotten her attention. He did so love a surprise hook. 

He tapped the table twice with firm fingertips. "I'll be in touch, Miss Morgan," he murmured, not looking back as he turned sharply and left the room.

"Looking forward to it," died on her lips as he fell out of earshot.


End file.
